


Shut Up, Let Me Care for You

by biscuits_and_whiskey



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: F/M, Feels, Gen, Injury Recovery, Light Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Self-Esteem Issues, Sickfic, Sort Of, could be read platonic or romantic, so par for the course, teen for mild language, they're bad at talking about feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:28:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25995250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biscuits_and_whiskey/pseuds/biscuits_and_whiskey
Summary: Hardy is sick; Ellie is injured.Both need to be okay with being taken care of.
Relationships: Alec Hardy & Ellie Miller, Alec Hardy/Ellie Miller
Comments: 17
Kudos: 112





	Shut Up, Let Me Care for You

“You shouldn’t be doing this.”

  
Ellie decidedly ignored him as she rifled through his cabinets.

  
“I’ll be fine, Miller. M’not a child. Can take care of myself.”

  
Ellie stopped, blew a loose strand from her face, and rolled her eyes.

“With all due respect sir, that’s some of the biggest shit I heard today.” She sighed.

  
She dug past a few expired bottles of medicine.

  
“Just some?”

  
Ellie let a smirk slip.

“It’s been a long day, sir.” She continued to search.

  
“Mmph.”

  
“Ah, finally.” She clutched the small box. “Cabinets need organizing.”

In Hardy’s cliffside house, against the cascading rain, in the small living room with scarce furnishing, the scene was gray toned. Light, the only light, shone from the sliding door and illuminated the blue-gray couch perpendicular to it.

  
Sat upright, just barely, was Hardy.

He stared, glassy-eyed, at the darkened telly.

  
“Open wide.” Ellie said as she popped the box open. “Say ‘ah’.”

  
Hardy frowned but nonetheless assented.

  
“Say ‘ah’.”

  
“M’nawt doin’ dat, Millahr.” He mumbled as the thermometer dampened his tongue.

  
“Right, then shut your gob instead.” Ellie tucked her sleeves underneath her armpits before she sharply winced.

  
Hardy shot a concerned glance.

  
“M’fine. You’re the sick one.”

  
He said something rendered unintelligible by the thermometer, which beeped shortly afterwards.

  
Ellie plucked it from his mouth, read the screen, and gestured with it.

  
“Thirty-nine on the dot. You’re sick.”

  
Hardy sat back, blinked slowly.

“You are.”

  
“M’fine. I don’t need any nannying.”

  
“Well, I don’t need you passing out and hitting your head because you’re being a knob.”

She wiped off the thermometer.

“Tea?”

  
Hardy nodded.

“Ta.”

  
Ellie vanished into the kitchen and returned with two cups of tea.

She handed one to Hardy as she lingered, eyes fixed on the sliding door, on the cascading rain.

“Christ, it’s really coming down.” She said softly.

  
A violent series of coughs erupted from Hardy, snatched her attention away.

  
It settled down and Hardy met her eyes.

“You’re staying here.” He said, his voice raspy.

  
“I don’t get a say in this?” She asked sarcastically.

  
“You _want_ to walk in that?”

“I didn’t say that.” Ellie turned back to him. “And I should stay. You might die without me.”

She chuckled, gave the smallest smile.

  
Hardy didn’t return it.

  
Her smile faded.

She couldn’t confirm it, but she figured they were thinking of the same thing.  
  
She returned to his side and plopped herself down.

But even that small motion pulled a sharp wince from her, despite her attempts to conceal it.

  
“Miller,”

“Damnit…I’m okay.” She hissed as she gingerly tapped at her side, only to pull another wince.

  
“You’re not okay.” Hardy asserted. “Damnit, how long…have you been ignoring – “

  
“I’m _fine_.”

  
“Miller, you just said _I_ can’t say that.”

  
“Because you’re sick!”

  
“And you’re not? You’re not hurt??” Hardy snapped.

Her eyes widened, flickered.

She averted her gaze guiltily.

  
Behind her, she felt Hardy shift on the couch.

She could hear the crease of the fabric, slow and careful, and the shift of the blanket.

  
She only looked again when she felt a hand at her side.

  
Hardy instantly retracted his hand, expression remorseful and apologetic.

“Only if you’re okay with it.”

  
She thought.

Then assented.

She lifted her shirt just enough to peep her ribcage.

  
Enough to peep the thick gauze and bandaging right beneath her armpit.

  
“Bad?” She asked.

  
Hardy nodded.

“Might’ve reopened something. Lot of blood.”

  
“Shit.”

  
“You need to get back to hospital – “

  
“ _No_. I just left.” Ellie answered adamantly. “I’m staying.”

  
“And I won’t let you bleed to death, _Ellie_.” Hardy furrowed his brow. “Least let me redress it.”

Ellie’s expression softened further.

Before she could argue, Hardy was up, blanket draped around his shoulders.

She watched as he hobbled to the kitchen, a cough punctuating every other, wobbled step.

Her eyes lowered.

  
When he returned, he set the first aid kit on the coffee table, pulled out gauze and a roll of medical tape.

He pulled on some plastic gloves and went about removing the old, stained bandaging.

  
The rain pounded harder outside.

  
“You shouldn’t be taking care of me.” She said quietly.

  
Hardy snorted.

“Pot meet kettle.”

  
Ellie rolled her eyes.

“Guess we’re both bad about that.” She admitted. “Maybe we both need to be cared for.”

  
“Maybe. Could be onto something.”

  
She smiled faintly as she watched Hardy examine the stitches.

“All intact. Bleeding isn’t as bad as I thought.”

He turned away and coughed into his elbow.

Ellie’s smile faded as she spotted the sheen of sweat on his brow.

“I’m sorry.”

  
Hardy stopped his redressing.

“What for?”

  
She chewed on her words, mulled.

“You’re sick. And…you know…”

  
“Ach, don’t start.” Groaned Hardy as he set aside the excess gauze.

  
“You wouldn’t have gotten sick if you didn’t stay out with me in the rain.”

  
“First off, we both know that’s not how it works.” Hardy pointed out. “Second, if I hadn’t stayed out, that’d mean I let you bleed out.”

He snipped the last piece of medical tape.

“I know I can be an ass, but I hope you don’t think I’d pick that.”

  
“No, I know that.” said Ellie. “I wouldn’t let you live it down if you did.”

  
“I know you wouldn’t.”

Hardy’s eyes fell low.

“I wouldn’t forgive myself if I did either.”

  
Ellie’s heart stung.

Hardy coughed again, then chuckled lowly, sadly.

“Sides, s’my fault you’re hurt in the first place.”

His gaze fixed on her bandaged wound.

“Hesitated. If I hadn’t, perp wouldn’t get a chance to grab his knife.”

So close to a major artery.

“Wouldn’t have – “

A little higher and –

  
“No, I can see you’re thinking. What matters is that _didn’t_ happen.” Ellie said quickly. “I’m alive. Just a nick, not _stabbed_.”

“W-Whatever it is, you _shouldn’t_ have gotten hurt.”

  
“What, and it’d be better if it was you?”

  
Hardy averted his gaze, remained quiet.

  
Ellie heart ached for the second time that hour.

So many years and her boss, her friend, still valued himself so little.

She rolled down her shirt and crossed her arms, carefully.

“I don’t regret it. Look, I…” She grimaced at her oncoming words. “…I’d take a hundred knife nicks if it’d mean you’re alive.”

  
Hardy gave her a look.

“Oh, sod off, what else was I supposed to say? Oh, cheers, yeah this one was on the house?” She gestured. “Hardy, damnit, I know you don’t believe it, but I _do_ care about you. There wasn’t a second thought for me. You get stabbed or not: only one choice.”

  
“Can’t tell me you’ve _never_ had a second thought…” He joked darkly.

  
“No. I haven’t.”

  
The dark humor evaporated from Hardy’s face; smile replaced by a stunned frown.

“You could’ve died from – “

  
“But I _didn’t_.” She interrupted tiredly. “And don’t joke like that. You matter, Hardy, and I won’t hear otherwise.”

She put the supplies away and picked up the thermometer once more.

“Might take your temp one more time.”

  
Hardy, this time, accepted the thermometer without another word.

It rested against his tongue, none too lightly.

No, this time, it stirred a rather disturbing round of wet coughs that left him light-headed.

  
“Christ, Hardy…” Ellie stared nervously.

She glanced at the thermometer.

“Still thirty-nine.” She started to stand. “Maybe a cup of water will help instead – “

“ _Ellie_.”

  
He reached out, grabbed her hand.

  
She froze.

  
His hand was damp, clammy with feverish sweat.

He looked sickly, but beyond that was earnestness.

That same earnestness that, at most times, discomforted Ellie, with how open it was.

His eyes only kept hers for a moment before they drifted to her held hand.

He sighed a shuddered sigh.

“Thank you.”

  
Ellie stayed there, still, as if frozen in time.

  
Contemplating.

  
Then, she decided, and gently squeezed his hand back.

  
Crossed around him.

Sat down again slowly.

  
Turned to him and swept his drenched hair from his forehead.

  
Felt the waves of fever from his skin.

  
Felt him lean against her palm.

  
Watched him slip from her palm to her shoulder.

  
Watched him rest against her side, shuddering with unsteady breath, but at least more peaceful than he’d been since they arrived.

  
At most times, she might’ve protested.

  
This wasn’t one of those times.

  
Instead, she remained, kept vigil.

Watched the rain as it drenched the world outside, dotted the window.

A steady rhythm to finally settle them, allow them both to finally relax.

Safe.

**Author's Note:**

> not sure on quality but hope u all enjoy still! sry for not much new stuff, writers block got me hard. hope 2 get more written eventually but hopefully this was still a good read


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